Something To Remember Me By
by CandyRain
Summary: Bramy. What if Amy's criminal court appointment had meant transferring to Boston? Amy's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:  I don't own Judging Amy or its characters.

Author:  CandyRain aka chocolatekisses

Summary:  Bramy.  What if Amy's criminal court appointment had meant transferring to Boston?  Amy's POV.

A.N.  This takes place somewhere between the end of Season 4 and the beginning of Season 5.

I'm standing behind my desk with my back to the door, taking one last look around.  'I made the right decision,' I tell myself for the umpteenth time.  I hear footsteps and turn around. Bruce is standing at my door.

            He steps in and closes the door, while I make my way around to the front of my desk and perch on the edge.  I cross my arms and wait.  "I just came to say good-bye," he says sticking his hands in his pockets.

            I can't believe what I'm hearing.  I force myself to laugh so that I don't scream.  "Good-bye?  After four years, that's all we're gonna say to each other?"

            "Judge Gray –" he starts.

            "I'm not your boss anymore, Bruce.  You can call me Amy."  'Why is that so hard for you,' I think.

            He ignores my comment and answers my question with one of his own.  "What else would you like for me to say?"

            I close my eyes and take a deep breath in an effort to pull myself together.  "Nothing, Bruce.  That's exactly what I expected you to say."  I stand up and grab my keys and the box of things I cleaned out of my desk.  "I'm just sorry you feel the need to stay angry with me."

            "I'm not angry," he says too quickly.

            "Fine, you're not angry," I say as I push past him.  "That's why you haven't said more than two words to me since I told you I was leaving."

            "Oh," he chuckles, but I hear the anger he's trying to hide, "so I'm upset because you're leaving."

            "Are you?" I ask stopping at the door and turning back to face him.

            "Do you want me to be?"

            "I _want_ you to react in some way," I say.  "I'd rather you be happy to see me go, than not care at all.  You're doing that shut down, strictly professional crap again, and I don't –"

            "Does it really matter how I feel about it?" he asks.

            "It shouldn't."  I give him a chance to reply, but he just shakes his head, so I leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:  See Chapter 1

"So where do things stand between you and Stu?" my mother asks.  It's close to midnight, but we're both sitting on my bed folding my clothes and packing them in their designated boxes.

            "We're just going to see how things work out.  Neither of us has done the long-distance thing before so . . . we'll see."

            The doorbell rings before she can question me further.  She looks at me, "You get it.  You're younger and you move quicker, if it's some psycho you have a better chance of getting away."  I throw a sock at her before I roll off the bed and head for the stairs.

            I push a stack of boxes out of the way, before I swing the door open.  When I see him standing on the other side, I have to swallow before I can speak.  "Bruce."

            "Can we talk?" he asks.

            I step back and pull the door with me in silent invitation.  Once I've closed the door he starts, "I know it's late, but I wasn't sure what time you were planning on leaving tomorrow, and I didn't want to miss you."

            "I gave you a chance to talk this afternoon; you didn't take it."

            "That's why –"

He stops, and we both turn, when we hear my mother coming down the stairs.  "Amy? Who was at the – hello, Bruce."

He and I paste on smiles.  "Hi, Mrs. Gray."  My mother sees right through our act, and for once I'm glad that she's so perceptive.  She won't stick around and make this more awkward.

"Amy, did you bring home more boxes?"

"They're in the kitchen, by the back door."

When she's out of ear shot, I walk into the living room.  "Do you want to sit down?"  I curl up in the overstuffed armchair by the fireplace, and he sits down on the sofa.

We're both silent for a while before he speaks.  "You were right."

"About what?" I know exactly what he's talking about, but if he can't own up to it himself, there's no point in us having this conversation, and better to find out now.

"About me, having a problem with your leaving."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:  See Chapter 1

"Why didn't you say that from the beginning?" I ask.

            "Because I couldn't admit to myself, that I _had_ a problem with it."

            That's what I thought.  "So why now?"

            "I realized I was treating you badly because of my own issues.  I didn't want to let you leave angry at me, even though I deserved it.  I apologize for how I've been acting."

            As he says the last, he stands, pulls a small foil wrapped box out of his pocket and places it on the arm of my chair.  "What's this?"

            "A going away present," he tells me.  "Something to remember me by."

            I smile.  "You don't really think I could forget you?"

            "Of course not," he says with a smug grin.  "I was being humble."

            I pick up the box and lift the lid.  Inside is a simple, silver I.D. bracelet, but instead of my name, the top is engraved with "Spain."

            I'm confused, and the look on my face must give it away because he says, "Look on the back."

            I turn the bracelet over and read what's engraved there:  _I'm ready whenever you are._

            Tears well in my eyes even before I can feel the lump in my throat.  "Bruce, this is . . . ."  I stop when my voice starts to crack.  The memory of how he comforted me that day, after Barry and I broke up, gives more force to my tears.

            '_What would you say if I told you I had two tickets to __Spain__?_'I'd asked him

            He'd answered without a moment's hesitation, '_When do we leave?_'

            At the time he didn't understand how much those four words meant to me.  A few days later, he asked me about it, and when I explained it he simply said, "Count me in anytime," and neither of us ever mentioned it again.  I can't believe he still remembers.

            I drop the box and launch myself into his arms.  His arms wrap around me the same way they did that day and all the other times he was there for me.  "I'm going to miss you so much."

            "I'm going to miss you too, Amy."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

I stand in his arms for a while, but it doesn't seem like it's been nearly long enough when I finally pull myself away from him and wipe my eyes. "Don't you get tired of me crying on your shoulder?" I try to laugh, but all I can manage is a weak variation that's closer to a cough.

"No." I'd wanted to lighten the mood, but when I look up at him, I see that I've done the exact opposite. "I'm here when you need me. That's not going to change because you're in Boston instead of Hartford. I'm a phone call away, and my car gets good gas mileage." We both laugh. "Seriously, though, let me know if you need _anything_."

His cell phone rings and we both jump. I read the engraving on my bracelet again while he talks. "Yeah . . . I know. I'm sorry. . . . I'm on my way." I look back up, when he's finished. "That was, Winny," he explains. "She's watching Rebecca for me, and I was supposed to be home by now."

"Well, you better get home." I turn to walk him to the door.

"Wait." He catches my hand in his and slides the bracelet out of my grasp. "We have to make sure it fits." I hold my arm up so that he can connect the two clasps around my wrist. He turns it so that the I.D. is on top then takes my hand and gently pulls me towards the lamp table at the other end of the sofa. He tilts my wrist so that the bracelet catches the light from the lamp. "What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect."

"So do I," he says. He pulls me toward him and kisses me on the forehead. It's a light kiss, but it's too much for the little composure I had left. I close my eyes but the tears slide down my cheeks anyway. I open them when I feel him move away. "Goodbye, Amy."

"Goodbye, Bruce." I feel something give way inside my chest as soon as I speak and I can feel a little more break away with each step as I follow him to the door.

He turns around when we're there. "Stop crying, okay." I can tell I'm making him worry. I nod because I know that speech isn't possible right now.

He leans over to kiss me again, on the lips this time, but with the same purpose as before, comfort, but before he can pull away it turns into something else. The hand that was at my chin, moves to my waist, and the other to my back, while my fingers lace themselves around his neck. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I try to remind myself that I'm with Stu and Bruce is with Zola, but then I feel his mouth open above mine and I can't help following his lead.

Eventually we start to feel the effects of oxygen deprivation and pull apart. I drop my hands to his shoulders, but he keeps his where they are. "I have to go, but . . . ."

He doesn't' want to leave things unfinished. Neither do I, but this isn't the time. "I know," I say.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Um, I know you'll be busy tomorrow, but call me when you get there."

It's a question as much as it is a statement. He's as unsure about what just happened here as I am, but I know we're both intrigued by the possibilities. "I will," I tell him.

He smiles and gives my hand a squeeze, before opening the door and walking toward the sidewalk. I watch him, and when he's nearly to his car his cell rings again. "I know . . . I'm coming . . . I'll owe you a favor, alright . . . fine, a big one," I hear him say. He waves as he pulls away. I finally close the front door after I wave back.

I walk back up stairs and into my room smiling. Mom looks at me and I know immediately that she knows. "So you and Stu?" she asks.

"I . . . um . . . it . . . ."

"I thought as much," she smiles. "I never liked him anyway."

The End . . . for now


End file.
